Turning the Tides
by typicalRAinbow
Summary: Poor Miss Hardbroom contemplates both her luck and that of her most bumbling pupil.


**I'M BAAAAAAACK! With full access, no parental input and I even remembered me password! Did you miss me?*Ra swamps everyone with hugs cookies and evil laughter* All right it's incredibly slow but that's because my house is in the middle of nowhere. Just wait till I get to weather spoons! *more evil giggling* (And fingers crossed there may even be a lot more bits and bobs being uploaded, both here on the worst witch front and in the Mary Pop-pop-Poppins, Doctor What/Where/why, Hairy Potty, Plunderbirds plus many more categories) *cue more manic laughter***

**Speaking of categories I'm not sure weather to put this in TV or Misc books really as I sort of used both as references though it's based a lot more on and after "The Worst Witch: all at sea" then the episodes. Having combined them my characterisation might be a lil' out in some places. Please point out any typos you find. There ain't much of a plot either but no change there then! Oh wells … **

**HB's symptoms, obviously aside from her magical reactions, are based on my own experience(s) with concussion in wet weather (You should get a Girls Guides badge if you were also camping during the 'UK hurricane'!) All characters and settings belong to Jill Murphy. I own nothing but the amusement I got writing this and insulting the gulls when I should have been doing paper work and time sheets. We have three chicks on the roof at work. My supervisor keeps annoying every one by feeding them. I wouldn't mind but on Saturday their parentals stole my sarrnies.**

**Enjoy x**

Miss Hardbroom groaned and pulled the blankets over her throbbing head, winching as the pillows pressed against the still sensitive sore spot. It was early afternoon on her first day of bed-rest, but she was already hating just lying there, doing nothing especially when it was impossible to sleep. To make matters worse she still felt cold, tired and miserable, as though all the aches and pain left over from yesterday had carried over and been added to today's helping.

Out side the day was warm and bright, perfect for the girls' trip to the beach, but for some cruel and vicious reason on Mother Nature's behalf, the sun was shining right though the high window into the teachers eyes, the thin curtains unable to keep out the light. Another fixation that was annoying her was the laughter and yelling of her form that rang in her ears, despite the youngsters being on the shore, seemingly miles away from Miss Hardbroom and her little bedroom.

However, the most infuriating thing was that she was stuck in a gloomy castle. Stuck in a gloomy castle, with the world's worst headache. Stuck in a gloomy castle, with the world's worst headache, on her holiday!

And all because of Mildred Hubble.

Not for the first time that morning, and certainly not for the first time that term, Miss Hardbroom wondered whether it was fate, or just her own rotten luck to have such a student in her form. Hubble was troublesome untidy and completely hopeless, always getting her self and those around her in too some form of scrapes. The child was a walking (and flying!) disaster. Why on earth had she been even given a place in the school, least of all a place in the potions teacher's form?

It simply isn't fair, she thought. The other teachers, not even Miss Bat, have THIS much trouble from a student!

Now, normally, Constance E. Hardbroom, a confident fully-trained powerful witch and first class Potionineer with numerous qualifications was not one too put her self down or feel sorry for her self. But then again, normally the teacher didn't spend twelve hours unconscious floating on a boat out to sea with nothing but a teenage witch-in-training for medical treatment, a sodden clock for a pillow and a tabby cat for warmth…

Dam that cat! It had been as troublesome as her mistress and the cause of the form-mistresses current condition. Miss Hardbroom had regretted giving the girl the stripy little kitten from the moment she'd watched Mildred resort to popping it in the school satchel that she'd hung on the end of her broom rather then having to admit Tabby appeared to have a fear of flying. Who ever heard of a witch's cat that had a fear of flying? Then again who ever heard of a witch's cat with stripes!

Speaking of felines, where was Morgana? The cat (along with her heroic broom,) had been returned to her shortly after Miss Cackle had taken her deputy up too her room. And yet later that morning, the moment the door had opened to let Mildred and Mr Rowan-Webb enter, the elegant black cat had slipped out, probably smelling the kippers that were being cooked for the girls breakfast, leaving the potions teacher feeling somewhat betrayed.

Kippers…Oh if only Mildred hadn't tossed those stinking fish into the boat yesterday, none of this would have happened! Morgana would have never dived into the boat following the smell and she wouldn't have followed and then she wouldn't have spotted Tabby and then she wouldn't have slipped and then-and then…

A seagull interrupted her thoughts, its laugh-like call mocking her from seeming right outside her window. Miss Hardbroom lowered the blanket just enough to glare over the top of it at the glass, only to remember the bird in question was probably far away soaring over the cliffs somewhere. Her hearing appeared to be all over the shop after the accident, every thing seemed louder and all muffled, as though the world was shouting at her while she had her fingers in her ears. She hadn't even recognised Miss Cackle's voice when she'd been hauled out the boat. Mr Rowan-Webb had assured her that it would probably wear off with the concussion but for now it was most frustrating. It sounded like an entire choir of the feathered rats were sat on the windowsill!

Swearing that the cats would feast on 'seagull-surprise' before the week was out, Miss Hardbroom turned over to in another attempt to sleep. Only to suddenly bolt upright with a gasp at an icy pressure against her side. The water bottle that been popped in to the bed with her this morning was now freezing cold, making Miss Hardbroom shiver, despite being under a winter duvet, two blankets, wearing her dressing gown over the top of her pyjamas, and having her feet encased it the warm but dreadful looking pink slipper socks that someone (possibly the headmistress) had conjured up around her toes.

The potions teacher sighed and held the rubber bottle up to her chest, casting a spell. Although she often reprimanded the students for using their powers for selfish or trivial needs, to heat water just below boiling point was basic magic. Even though it was one the curriculum for the first year students, many girls have been using it for years before coming to the academy. Miss Cackle used it often to create a cup of tea in a hurry and it was one of the few spells Mildred had gotten right first time.

It didn't work. Miss Hardbroom stared at it. Her senses were failing her, they had to be. There was no way she of all people could mess up such a simple spell. She tried again, speaking the command aloud this time. Still nothing happened. Miss Hardbroom clutched it tighter willing the spell to work, but only succeeded in puncturing the rubber casing with her nail, the cold liquid spurting out like a small geezer. She let out an angry yell of surprise and flung the offending item across the room. It bounced off the wall and landed with a wet splutter. Miss Hardbroom glowered at it, water now steadily dribbling out of it pooling on the carpet. Then sighed, allowing her shoulders to slump a little as she wiped the away the water that had run up her arm, annoyed at her self for not keeping her composure despite her frustrations.

Is this how Mildred feels?

She shook the thought from her head, only for it to be replaced again with the wish she'd never bother coming on this holiday or that Mr Rowan-Webb hadn't been so generous in rewarding Mildred. In fact she half wished that Ethel had never turned Mildred into a frog …

Ethel. Just what was it between those two girls? She knew Ethel wasn't exactly perfect, and Mildred was far from it, but really! They were classroom rivalry was going to far now. Why couldn't Mildred be more like Ethel? But then again, it will be far too simple, easy and downright dull to teach a class full of A grade Hallows…

Miss Hardbroom didn't even bother trying to shift that particular home truth from her mind. If, by some miracle, Mildred made it though to her final year of Cackles and was able to perchance make a few useful, if some what basic potions, Miss Hardbroom knew she'd have done enough. If only the girl wasn't so of a nuisance to teach! It seemed like every thing that had gone wrong at the school in the past two years had something to do with Mildred. It was as though Trouble latched on to her untied boot laces.

But still, her conscience argued as Miss Hardbroom once more slipped under the blankets. Mildred means well. And she has saved your life. And the school before that…surly you can't really blame her and Tabby for what happened now can you? Even if it had been properly secured to the jetty, you'd have still ended up head over heels and knocked unconscious in the bottom of the boat…

Miss Hardbroom began to unpin her hair from its tight bun and, careful to avoid the bandage that also wrapped around her head, attempted to untangle her braid and her thoughts, wondering why she'd gone to investigate the strange yowling coming from the cabin in the first place. Was it simply to find a reason to give the young girl detention or expulsion threat? Given Mildred's rather odd behaviour over the few days and having over heard enough of Maud and Enid conversations to confirm her suspicions that the girls had been up to something, but under Miss Cackle's advise and against her better judgment, Miss Hardbroom had ignored her up until she'd had decided to put an end to the silliness. True, it was meant to be a holiday but there was no excuse for Mildred to- to-

Remain loyal to the creature she'd loved these past two years, despite it never growing out of kitten-hood?

Rescue the academy's most feared and probably hated teacher from being swept out to sea?

Discover a mythical chest laidden with stunning treasures on top of saving the day again?

Just admit it, her conscience argued. Mildred is a good girl… even if she is the worst witch you've ever come across. Miss Hardbroom groaned and flopped back against the pillows ignoring the protesting bump on her cranium with sheer will power. Being a traditionalist creature of habit, the potions teacher disliked change but no matter which angle she looked at it, for once, she couldn't find fault with Hubble's recent actions, even if they had been accidental.

Enough of this the potions teacher grumbled, glaring up with tired eyes at the ceiling as to find a hair line crack to pin all the blame on. You need sleep to recover and going round in circles about who, what, where and why isn't going to help. Miss Hardbroom tossed and turned trying to get comfy till she was too exhausted to care. Why did it have to be so hard just to fall asleep? Surely she had to do was close her eyes, take a deep a breath, clear her mind-

At that moment a loud banging jerked her back in to present making her indivertibly jump.

"Miss Hardbroom?" the knocking came again, the gentle tapping on the door reverberating so loud the teacher was forced to cover her ears. "Miss Hardbroom, are you awake?"

Miss Hardbroom didn't answer. Instead she buried her self deeper under the blankets squeezing her eyes closed and pretended to be asleep, her back to the door. It was a childish thing to do, but she didn't feel like visitors at the moment nor did she feel like shouting at them to go either so with any luck, Miss Cackle or whoever it might be would get the hint and leave. Miss Hardbroom's run of ill fortune however seem determined to continue as the unidentified and unwanted guest let them let themselves in, something metallic clanging against the wooden door.

"Oops, bother. Um, good afternoon Miss Hardbroom. Sorry to disturb you, but Mr Rowan-Webb thought you might like a cup of tea. It's spilt a bit but only on to the saucer-"

Miss Hardbroom scowled even more. She didn't want a cup of tea or to be fussed over again but her visitor seemed to either be ignoring or completely oblivious to her act. just infuriate her further something had entered the room and rumbling as loud as an engine in Miss Hardbroom's ears, making it even harder to distinguish the voice. It wasn't the wizard or the headmistress, too high pitched. Which meant it had to be one of the girls, Miss Hardbroom inwardly moaned, the rumbling probably being their stomachs.

"We picked you some flowers. Oh and we made you this as well. It's a Get well soon card. It was Miss Cackle's idea and everyone's signed it." there was a rustle and a clink as, with a bit of a kerfuffle the items were placed on the bedside table. Miss Hardbroom rolled her eyes. Thank you, now leave me in peace she thought darkly biting back a comment. But her guest lingered, not speaking for a few moments that seemed like hours in the deputy's mind. Rather then head toward the door however, the child instead then cautiously approached the bed. Miss Hardbroom wished they hadn't as it made the droning sound even louder. Before she could complain however, the corner of the duvet was lifted and something rather weighty was slid underneath behind her, much to the teacher's surprise.

"I thought you might like this as well." the girl explained, tucking covers back into place. Miss Hardbroom opened her mouth to protest then remembered her ruse and closed it again, her ever present frown now tinged with curiosity.

"I packed it just in case and I'm glad I did. I _think_ I put the right amount in and Maud made doubly sure it didn't leak. Enid made me it at the start of term but I think you need it more now-I mean well it was really cold on the boat and it's my fault and well I never got to apologise properly before and I swear I never ever meant for any thing like this to happen," The student continued, then faulted, her mind seemingly caught up with her babbling mouth "I-I'm sorry, Miss Hardbroom. I really mean it. - I guess I'd better go, the others will be wondering where we've gotten to and you need peace and quiet … I hope your feeling better soon Miss Enjoy your tea …Come on Tabs."

'Tabs?' The teacher frowned before her mind put two-and-two together and something that should have been obvious clicked in to place. Oh, of all the people…

Miss Hardbroom sat up, too late to say anything but just in time to see the back of her visitor, or visitors, as the case maybe. She caught a glimpse of the familiar little cat draped like a shawl on his mistress' shoulders and purring its head off, unaware of the headache he'd been creating with his noisy rumbling, quite content to once again be curled up with his mistresses pigtails as she left the room with a tray under her arm closing the door behind her the light if clumpy foot steps echoing and fading down the corridor as she left the form teacher alone to her thoughts.

On the little table as promised stood the tea, its saucer filled to the brim with the sloped drink, a card that might have once been ornate before the girls covered it in glitter and next to them a vase of wind battered daisies buttercups and dandelions. Miss Hardbroom merely glanced at them. It wasn't she was ungrateful, she just thought them unnecessary. After all cut flowers were only really useful in potions seeing as they began to lose their beauty the moment their stems were snapped and the card was touching but knowing the girls were gleeful running riot in her absence its bright happy message dimmed somewhat, not mention that what was left the tea had probably now gone cold therefore undrinkable.

It was the forth present that really intrigued the witch. There, flat on her blankets lay that resembled a stripy tabby-cat teddy with no arms or legs. The potions teacher gingerly picked it up and instantly felt the warmth radiating from inside the fluffy casing, her sensitive nose picking up the sent of Lavender oil from its stuffed toy head.

"Mildred Hubble," Miss Hardbroom sighed, settling back against the pillows, rearranging the duvets and cuddling up to the freshly-filled hot water bottle as she finally drifted off in to a peaceful sleep. "What did I ever do to deserve you…?"

**The End. And now I've uploaded this, if you'll excuse me I'm off to a do LOT of reading and reviewing. Whoop Whoop!**


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